Even so, Life Goes On
by azure-chan
Summary: Never one to go looking for love, she let life lead her wherever it would, and she followed. Then she met him, and her life turned around. However, how can one keep what is taken, and how can one love what is lost? Not Serena-centered.
1. Chapter 1

Well, here I am with yet another story! ::bows::  
  
Anywho, here's the summary:  
  
Never one to go looking for love, she let life lead her wherever it would, and she followed. Then she met him, and her life turned around. However, how can one keep what is taken, and how can one love what is lost? Not Serena-centered.  
  
(Suggestions on the summary are welcomed gratefully).  
  
Title:  
  
Even so, Life Goes On  
  
Warnings:  
  
None that come to mind.  
  
Pairings:  
  
This is where you come in.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The candlelight flame flickers restlessly as its tiny light succeeds in lighting up the desired spot where I am to recall the details of my incredible journey through anger, tears, happiness, childhood, adulthood and, finally, love.  
  
A love that I lost.  
  
Ha. I guess the only reason I lost him is because I believed I could actually have him in the first place. What a concept that he ended up re- routing all of my dreams and hopes for the future, leaving me with every little detail of him and his manners to fill me with the jitters every time I think of them.  
  
My pen taps at my paper for a brief moment before I close my eyes. The light of the moon rests upon my eyelids, and the pictures flood my mind.  
  
---  
  
It started at my private sanctuary, my place where I could enjoy the one past time that-besides Science and being with my friends-was writing. My pen raced across the blue-lined paper as it described every single detail of the world around me. The sky with its endless course of blue, the waves of the beach seas crashing together with such force; this was my private beach, a place I had found on my own and had come to since I could begin sailing without the help of my father, a captain.  
  
My mind told me that the sound of crackling thunder and the darkening of the skies was just another storm, which were common on my beach. Pen poised to write down every single detail of the storm which would probably soon approach, I waited-it wasn't smart to just sit in the middle of a sandy beach when a storm was brewing, but this was my time to relax and let go of rational thinking, and I did-anxiously, my eyes staring up at the sky and mirroring the darker sky blue that it portrayed.  
  
Only when a large ball of light came toward me fast and unexpected did I react, jumping up and hurling myself to the side just as the spot I had sat in seconds before was reduced to nothing-something had blown up part of my beach. With the pen and paper clasped in my vice-like grip, I ran the opposite way from the part of my beach that had been destroyed, determined to call for help back at my boat on the other end.  
  
My heartbeat seemed to beat against the bars of my ribcage, and as I ran, the beach kept being reduced to nothing but the waves of the sea. I was terrified.  
  
Luckily, someone must have sensed my fear or something because before I could register what was happening to me, strong arms plucked me from the sand that stuck to the bottoms of my feet, hefting me over a bulky shoulder.  
  
With a flash and a yell my savior and I seemingly fazed out of our beach surroundings and ended up on what looked like the top of a skyscraper twice its normal size.  
  
He set me down gently, so as not to hurt me, and on wobbly legs I stood, gazing at my surroundings and crying in my mind at my stupidity for dropping my pen and papers on the beach in surprise before we fazed out. Fazed out. Fazed out? How can one faze out? It was clearly possible because my "hero" had done it with me in his grasp, but then, who was my hero?  
  
The voice that broke my moment of concentration was young and innocent with a friendliness I only experienced from my closest of friends. But, being curious and distracted with thoughts of my savior, I didn't catch what the young boy had said.  
  
"Excuse me?" I turned my head to find the speaker and ended up looking down at a boy of maybe 11 or 12, wearing a smile that triggered one of my own.  
  
"I said hi, my name is Gohan. What's yours?" He waited patiently for my answer.  
  
"Ami." Gohan. What an interesting name. It rolled around on my tongue for a moment before I felt a warm hand tug on my own. I looked back down.  
  
Gohan smiled widely and fiddled with his fingers. He reminded me of Sammy, a friend of mine's younger brother. "Where are you from? You don't look like a regular person."  
  
Now there was an idea. Me being a regular person. It would never happen. I decided to humor the little boy. "Why do you think that?" I bent down to his level, wondering distantly if he knew about my identity as a former Sailor Scout.  
  
Now his smile was less nervous and more genuine. "I mean I've never seen you before. Did dad find you?"  
  
Dad? What Dad? I didn't recall meeting any Dad before. By the time I realized Gohan was talking about my rescuer, Dad was already standing in front of me and towering over me at the same time. And he was bulging. I mean muscles. Everywhere.  
  
I saw stars.  
  
"Hi!" He had the smile of his little boy and the charm that only a man could. "My name's Goku." He thrust out his hand.  
  
I took it shyly, smiling up at him and giving a firm squeeze. "Ami." My reply was cut short as a sudden pain in my hand informed me that this "Dad" person was squeezing the life out of one of my major body parts. "Ouch!" He let go abruptly and I cradled my poor hand in the other, flexing it just to make sure it still worked properly.  
  
"Sorry," Goku laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Sometimes I just don't know my own strength!"  
  
I smiled politely through my pain, but didn't make a single move to shake his hand for a better result. "Your son," I nodded to Gohan, who blinked, "looks exactly like you." And it was true. Same smile, same hair, same eyes- heck, they even had almost the same build! Gohan's was just a minimized size of Goku's.  
  
Goku nodded. "He's almost as good as I am in battle, too." He patted his son's head affectionately.  
  
Now this was all fine and dandy except the part about battle. "Battle?" The confusion on my face must have been all too clear because Goku started laughing again. I decided I liked his light, sweet laugh.  
  
"Dad'n me are fighters," Gohan explained with a goofy grin. "We fight enemies, and sometimes each other. We also fight in a martial arts tournament that's held annually, and Dad's a legend."  
  
Enemies? Tournaments? That made things about as clear as muddy water. The only enemies that were fought were fought by us Sailor Scouts, and we didn't even fight them. More like Sailor Moon blasted them into oblivion when we wounded or tired them out and even so, we hadn't had any demons for quite some time. And I couldn't recall ever hearing about any martial arts tournaments taking place in Japan; but then again, I'd never looked.  
  
"What kind of enemies?" The question popped out before I could think of the consequences asking could cause. I should have because Goku gave a silent look to his son, and Gohan nodded, cracking a smaller grin than before.  
  
"Oh, um," He didn't have to search for words because we were interrupted by a loud sound-kind of like wind smacking a board against a wall-and then Goku did a complete 180 turn and started running toward the newest members of our little group.  
  
"Vegeta! Trunks!" He waved his hands and only the younger member of the two- some smiled and gave a small wave back.  
  
My cheeks colored considerably. Was there no end to the gorgeous men in this place? Where did I land, in fantasy world? Shaking off my pink blush, I attempted to become invisible by hiding behind one of the many pillars standing upright on this platform place. I wished I was like my friend Minako, who would have skipped up to the handsome men in confident bounds, introduced herself merrily, and have gotten away with a boyfriend worth an eyeful.  
  
Sigh.  
  
"Ami! Ami? Where'd Ami go?"  
  
"I don't know, dad. Hey, Ami! Ami, you lost?"  
  
I flinched. Just my luck that Gohan and Goku would notice my sudden disappearance. Couldn't they have talked with their friends a while? I decided suddenly that I should have just jumped over the edge of this huge skyscraper, and then I would never have to blush in public again.  
  
"Hey, there she is!" Gohan ran over to me and grabbed my hand. "Why are you back here, Ami?"  
  
"I got lost." Letting him lead me out into the open, I quickly averted my eyes from the extremely good-looking gentlemen that stood just a few footsteps away. Blushing was out of the question, although I could feel my cheeks getting ready to do just that. Stay calm, I advised myself. These are just guys-nothing to get all excited about.  
  
Gohan let go of my hand and tugged on my shirt. "Ami, this is Trunks," He pointed to the male with lavender-looking hair tied back in a pony tail and I smiled a small smile, and Gohan nudged me.  
  
Imagine my embarrassment when I looked down at the little imp and he winked. For a moment, I was glad I wasn't my friend Serena-bless her heart- because she probably would have started wailing, flabbergasted, and scared "Trunks" off. Trunks. Another odd name. I wanted to laugh because the first thing that came to my mind-  
  
"And this is his dad, Vegeta."  
  
-was a pair of swimming trunks. Vegeta? Humorous. Reminded me of vegetables for an odd reason. His hair seemed to defy the laws of gravity by standing up like a flame, and he was a bit short-taller than me, but shorter than most men. Vegeta stood completely still when I looked at him, and the scowl on his face was most disagreeable. I wanted run and cower, to hide in fear at the look of absolute disgust he seemed to be giving me, so it was no surprise when I couldn't even force a small smile, and a hello was out of the question. I blinked instead. My acknowledgment must not have been good enough, because Vegeta narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Who is this woman?" He made a gesture with his head toward me.  
  
"Her name is Ami, Vegeta." Goku said.  
  
Vegeta didn't seem happy with this answer. "Why is she here? Does she have any type of strength? Is she going to be useful in battle?"  
  
My eyes widened. What battle? Were these people warriors or something? They fought other people? No, Gohan had said something about fighting enemies and in tournaments, but by the way Vegeta had said battle, I guessed they weren't just going to try and win a trophy at a local martial arts face- off.  
  
"She's not going to fight." His tone was kind, although a deeper edge was still there. "She doesn't need to." Goku's tone said that that was the last of the discussion.  
  
Vegeta had other plans. "The woman probably does not know how to. Am I right?"  
  
The question was hurled toward me with such anger and loathing that I felt unworthy to answer. My mouth could only drop open in utter stupidity, and the only sounds coming out could be said as none other than choking.  
  
"I did not think so." Vegeta's scowl didn't lighten any. "If the woman is not a valuable asset to this-" He spit out the word, "-team, then why is she here?"  
  
"She's my friend!" Gohan stepped in. "Don't be so mean, Vegeta." He smiled suddenly and looked up at me. "Ami seems nice; you shouldn't be mean to her."  
  
Vegeta scoffed. "Friend?" He snarled the question. "Brat, friends are for weaklings." Glaring at me one last time, he turned to Goku. "Kakarrott, what is this 'Time Chamber' you were speaking of when you told me to come here? I wish to train so I can defeat Cell." He smirked. "I will prove to you once and for all that I do not need help from weaklings."  
  
First I wanted to ask who "Kakarrott" was, and then I expected Goku to get angry, to yell, to do something that would show that Vegeta's words had gotten through. But he didn't. Instead of firing up his temper, Goku actually smiled and shook his head. "Whatever you say, Vegeta."  
  
"Hello, everybody!" Twin voices of happiness echoed throughout the landing on which we stood, and two figures came running toward us.  
  
My mouth dropped even further, and my eyes widened considerably. Coming toward us were two very short beings, one with green skin and the other darker than ebony.  
  
The little green guy-no pun intended-stopped to catch his breath before smiling at our spaced group. He looked straight at me, his smile widening.  
  
I shut my mouth quickly and blinked. Surely he didn't expect me to smile back at him. I'd seen green guys before, but they were enemies! From the way Goku and the others were acting, I guessed this little fellow wasn't an enemy, but still. . . I hadn't seen anything weird in the past 3 years!  
  
"Hello, my name is Dende. Who're you?" Dende held a staff twice his length.  
  
"A-Ami. Ami Mizuno." I didn't know why I told him my first and last name, but he seemed to find the answer satisfying and turned to the others.  
  
"I bet you're here for the Time Chamber, right? Let me explain it to you guys first."  
  
And then they were all listening intently to what the green little man had to say, and I was off to feeling left out, and even the ebony man-to whom I hadn't been properly introduced-was listening.  
  
I decided to sort out my jumbled feelings at the edge of this sky scraper, only to get yet another surprise.  
  
This wasn't a sky scraper.  
  
How did I know? Well, for starters, this platform was in the shape of a bowl, and it seemed to be held up by one single, long pole-looking structure. How this came to be, I never did figure out. Another clue was that the-I suppose one would just call it a palace by the pillars and expensive looking things all around-palace seemed to be surrounded by the sky; no people, no houses, no birds-sky.  
  
Great, I thought, sitting down at the edge of the palace and daring to dangle my legs over the side. I happened to glance back at Gohan, only to be disappointed with the fact that he was still talking.  
  
So there I was, a girl, alone, in the middle of some place that I hadn't asked to be, with absolutely no idea of how to get home, and surrounded by men who fazed in and out, little green guys, and an arrogant. . . jerk. The next thing I knew, I'd be seeing more green guys or men who could fly in the air or people with three eyes or something.  
  
And then I met Piccolo, Yamcha and Tien.  
  
~*~*~  
  
That was fun. This isn't going to be a very long story, probably only 10 chapters. If you want Ami to be paired with someone, vote on it. The only exclusion is Gohan, because he's too young.  
  
Review!  
  
--azure_chan 


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to Chapter 2!  
  
Summary:  
  
Never one to go looking for love, she let life lead her wherever it would, and she followed. Then she met him, and her life turned around. However, how can one keep what is taken, and how can one love what is lost? Not Serena-centered.  
  
(Suggestions on the summary are welcomed gratefully).  
  
Title:  
  
Even so, Life Goes On  
  
Warnings:  
  
None that come to mind.  
  
Pairings: [Not in order of my favorites, don't worry =) ]  
  
Ami/Trunks: 1  
  
Ami/Goku: 0  
  
Ami/Vegeta: 2  
  
Ami/Piccolo: 2  
  
Ami/Tien: 1  
  
Ami/Yamcha: 1  
  
Symbols:  
  
-word- = Emphasis or Italics  
  
--- = Separates present from past - - or what Ami is writing  
  
Chapter 2  
  
My hand aches for the slightest moment before I begin to write again. The candlelight flame dances wildly on its perch, almost dancing itself out. Moonlight attacks my paper, washing over it in a glorious wave of silver and blue and white, and it is all I can do to keep the butterflies in my stomach at a minimum at the memory that has just kissed my thoughts.  
  
But it is not the time to record that memory, yet.  
  
---  
  
When three individual men landed on the floating palace without the help of an aircraft of any sort, I became---for lack of a better word---"freaked out" at the possibility that maybe I wasn't in Kansas anymore. . . I suddenly wished for a pair of sparkling red shoes, and a beautiful good witch to come and tell me how to use them correctly.  
  
"Tien! Yamcha! Piccolo!" Goku waved frantically; his meeting with the young green boy---Dende, I believe the green one said his name was---seemed to be over.  
  
With my legs just a-dangling and my mouth hanging open in the most disrespectful of ways, I stared, unmoving, at the words and friendly gestures flowing between Goku and two of the three men that had. . . landed. From my spot on the floating palace I couldn't hear what was being said, but somewhere in the conversation my name must have popped up because Goku pointed to me and signaled for me to come and meet his friends.  
  
Why me? was my immediate thought. [AN: If anyone is wondering, no, the "W" isn't supposed to be capitalized. Heh, I looked it up myself. ;-)]  
  
But, being raised to be polite and courteous to anyone I should come across- --unless of course I sensed something bad from them, as human instinct often does when something is wrong with a person---I hauled myself up and, very hesitantly, walked over to Goku and his friends.  
  
Of course they, too, towered over me, and I couldn't help but notice---upon closer inspection, of course---that one of my hero's comrades had. . .  
  
"Three eyes?" He nodded.  
  
Three eyes indeed! For a minute, I felt like a little child, filled with wonder and amazement and wanting to touch the third eye, yet feeling a slight bit of repulsion, and overall covered in fear. And then I remembered where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing. . . staring. I quickly averted my eyes and scowled as I felt my face heat up.  
  
"Excuse me," I stammered, "I didn't mean to stare, it's just that I've never seen anyone human with three eyes." I noticed I had emphasized the word human, and quickly covered my mistake with: "Except for on television, you know, with aliens and such." That explanation didn't seem to be any better, for it sounded as if I were a mindless little girl who watched too many horror movies. "I mean, I don't watch television often, and if I do, I usually just watch nature shows or hospital operations, or. . ."  
  
It occurred to me that I was ranting when Goku cut me off with his nice laughter.  
  
"Slow down, Ami. Why don't I introduce you, first?" My face lowered to the ground in embarrassment. Goku must have thought I was a mindless teenybopper as well. He was just too kind to show it outwardly.  
  
"This is Tien." Then he added, "A human Tryclopes," Because I still hadn't lifted my face from the ground, so naturally I wouldn't have been able to see him for myself. . . again.  
  
"Ami." I mumbled. I couldn't see what Tien did, but I supposed I had made a bad impression for he turned right around and walked away, not uttering a single word. My confidence evaporated.  
  
He went on to introduce me to Yamcha, who got the same result, and then it registered somewhere in my brain that I was being rude by not looking at the people I was being introduced to. Well, needless to say, I was horrified, and at the moment Goku decided he wanted to lower his head to tell me something, my own head shot up and connected with his chin. Hard.  
  
A hollow thunk sounded in my ears, and three things occurred to me. One: I had either broken Goku's jaw with the force of our impact; Two: I had cracked open my skull from the hardness of his chin; and Three: The one called "Yamcha" seemed to be laughing over my stupidity, and he choked out, "Nice to meet ya," and walked away in the direction of Tien.  
  
Since Goku seemed to be in tip-top shape, I decided I must have cracked my skull, or at least jumbled my brain. Any which-way, my head hurt.  
  
"Sorry!" Goku's apology was light but sincere. "I've always had a hard head."  
  
I winced. "It's fine." I wanted to add, "But since you're being so concerned, how about getting me three pounds of aspirin and about 70 water bottles?" I kept quiet and waited for him to introduce me to the next male present.  
  
The next green male present. Another oddity. This place was full of them!  
  
"This is Piccolo."  
  
I smiled and winced at the same time, taking in the features of this Piccolo man. He looked like a taller version of Dende, only a lot more muscular and less modest about his clothing. In truth, he looked like a man in a green suit, but it would have been rude to tell him so.  
  
"Nice to meet you." Proud of myself for actually saying something other than my name to these men---well, and saying something that made sense---my smile widened. "My name is Ami." I didn't dare hold out my hand for fear of him breaking it with his strength like Goku almost had.  
  
He frowned, his not as bad as Vegeta's, looking at Goku in silent question before asking: "She's an ally?" He had completely ignored my greeting.  
  
Goku laughed. "She's a girl."  
  
I wanted to state that by law I was a woman, but I kept my mouth shut. It didn't matter because Goku and Piccolo kept talking as if I weren't there. This bothered me, but I didn't show it, only stood there smiling away like an idiot. Finally, I wandered away from the two, and they didn't even seem to notice I was gone.  
  
Looking around me at chatting men and people who seemed like they had been friends forever, I felt even more out of place and found myself back at the edge of the palace with my legs dangling over the side. I didn't even notice Gohan when he sat down beside me.  
  
"Ami," He said, and I jumped.  
  
"Hi, Gohan." The smile upon my face was about as real as an imaginary friend. Gohan saw it, too.  
  
A frown appeared on the boy's face and he titled his head. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I feel a little lonely." Imagine that, me, the woman whom only smiles politely when spoken to and gets the job done with over-efficiency, telling an 11 or 12-year-old that I'm feeling lonely. Will wonders never cease?  
  
Gohan rolled over onto his stomach and began lazily kicking his legs in the air. "Why? Talk to somebody." He stated it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  
  
"I'm talking to -you-." I pointed out.  
  
A grin spread across his face. "Talk to Trunks."  
  
I turned a slight shade of rosy pink. "No way."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's complicated." It really wasn't. Truth was, I was too nervous to talk to Trunks, Tien, Yamcha. . . basically anyone here besides Goku and Gohan!  
  
Gohan rolled his eyes in boyish cute-ness. "I talk to him all the time. The only thing that gets complicating is when he starts talking about stuff I don't understand."  
  
Well, I wanted to say; you wouldn't understand this, either, sadly. "I don't have the nerve." Why was I even having this conversation when it seemed to be making me most uncomfortable? Oh yes, my lack of self-pride.  
  
He snorted. "Bad reason." Then, he suddenly sat straight up and smiled brightly. "Talk to Vegeta!"  
  
There was no hesitation for this suggestion. "No-o. Never. Not on your life, kid-do. I don't have a fetish for blushing or dying, you know." My first attempt at a joke! It was a brief success.  
  
Gohan laughed at my answer. "Seriously, he's just standing over there looking really out of place, and he could probably use a friend."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "And this pertains to me in what respect?" He must have thought I was joking because the kid started laughing again. "Har, har, har; I'm serious, Gohan. I'm not going near that walking. . . piece of ice." Ice was a perfect way to describe a cold fellow like Vegeta.  
  
"But he looks so lonely."  
  
My eyes sought out and found Vegeta. There was that scowl plastered to face, his jaw was set, eyes narrowed, arms crossed. "I think he looks happy."  
  
The look on his face was cute until he said, "And I think you need glasses. Ami, he's got no friends. Even Trunks won't go near him."  
  
I supposed the question in my eyes was enough to make Gohan chuckle and rub his head. "Oh yeah, Trunks is Vegeta's son."  
  
My head snapped toward Trunks', and only then did I notice the uncanny resemblance of him to Vegeta. Aside from the hair and eyes, the two could be mistaken for brothers! But wait a minute. . . Trunks looked to be around a lesser year my senior, which meant Vegeta must have been. . .  
  
"How old is Vegeta? About 46 or something? Because if he is, he looks really good for his age."  
  
My question sent Gohan into another round of laughter, and when the boy finally caught his breath, Dende was motioning for him to join the other--- I guessed they were all fighters by now---team mates to stand near two huge, threatening doors. I made myself comfortable, figuring I'd sit there and stare at the sky. Alone, again.  
  
But Gohan tugged on my hand and smiled warmly. "You want to come with me?"  
  
I shook my head immediately, even though I wanted to be anywhere Gohan was, just for his nice comfort. "You go ahead. They're your friends, not mine." I hadn't meant to sound harsh, more like unsure. It didn't work and Gohan yanked me to my feet---literally, mind you---dragging me along behind him while he ran to the group.  
  
Surprisingly, Yamcha awarded me with a smile, Trunks with another smile, Tien with a nod, Piccolo with---surprise, surprise---a frown, Vegeta. . . skip him, Goku with his trademark smile---no surprise there, thankfully--- and Dende with a half-smile. The little ebony guy was nowhere to be seen. I sent a smile to each of them.  
  
"This is the Time Chamber." Dende spoke in an important tone, lifting his staff to the door. "In here, a person can get a years worth of training in a day. Two people at a maximum, and, if you're strong enough, you can stay in there two days. No more than two days, though. It's dangerous." Then he smiled at the warriors. "Who's going first?"  
  
I watched with mild amusement as Goku---he must have been the leader of this pack---stated that he and Gohan would be going in together first. I had to admit, questions were whirling about in my head, but since Dende seemed to be the one in charge of the 'Time Chamber', I supposed I would just ask him.  
  
Tien and Yamcha backed out, saying something about once was enough for them, and they would train on their own.  
  
In utter amazement I watched them begin to levitate in the air, wave and take off in a bright flash of white light that left something akin to a paint streak of opal in the air. I was in awe.  
  
Then Vegeta with his deep, dark tone announced that he would be the first to go in the room.  
  
I looked quickly at Goku to see his reaction, only to be placed in further stupidity as he nodded, even going so far as to suggest Vegeta's son, Trunks, go in with him. It was, to me, a kind-hearted and confusing gesture at once.  
  
Gohan seemed to understand the things I didn't because he added, "Yeah, that'd be great for you two."  
  
And Goku said, "Spend some father-son time together." To which he was given the worst look---by Vegeta, of course---that had me freezing in my tracks even though it wasn't directed toward me.  
  
It was then that Piccolo announced he would go in after everyone else, but he would go in alone.  
  
Then, I remembered my questions and turned to Dende, who had been standing there, watching with thorough agreement to whatever the fighters had been deciding. I bent down and whispered:  
  
"What exactly is this 'Time Chamber' thing, and what does it do?"  
  
For a minute I didn't think he'd heard me, but then he took my wrist--- without even looking at me---and led me to a room on this floating palace.  
  
A very beautiful room. There were no chairs, no bed, no mirror---it was just a beautiful room decorated with tapestries of all shapes and sizes, and two antique looking bottles; one was black, the other a darker shade of off-white. The room itself seemed to be the color of a foggy sky blue, and I wondered if that was because there were no lights in the room. Anyhow, the first thing I did was go over to the two bottles just sitting on the ground and ask:  
  
"What are these for?"  
  
Dende set his staff aside and plopped himself on the ground, to which I followed his example and did the same, still looking at the bottles over my shoulder.  
  
"The Time Chamber," he wasted no time, "is a room in which-"  
  
"I know, I know: a person can get a years worth of training in a day; two people at a maximum, and, if you're strong enough, you can stay in there two days. No more than two days, though. You explained all of that. But what do you do in a Time Chamber?" I looked at the green boy expectantly, and he folded his hands.  
  
"You train," He said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Well, I decided, maybe to some people it was. But by my silence, one would have guessed I was just a tad bit unsatisfied by his answer, but Dende just sat there looking at me, as if to say, Well, go ahead, ask another question. And I did.  
  
"Why?"  
  
He looked a bit startled. "Why, what?"  
  
"Why do you train?" Before he could speak, I continued: "I mean, what would you train for? And how would you train?" No, that wasn't the real question. I couldn't put my thoughts into a real question for a moment. Why would a person go into a room to train, and how could you possibly get a years worth of training in a day? I voiced my thoughts.  
  
"It is. . . complicated."  
  
Complicated. Everything was always complicated. Me not being able to talk to any of the men besides the two---I looked at Dende---or three I felt comfortable with was complicated. My fear was complicated. The Biological structure of each of the persons on this floating palace was complicated. Heck, the floating palace -itself- was complicated! Always complicated.  
  
Dende must have sensed my silent frustration, for he added, "I'm sorry. Too much to explain. Maybe I can during a less stressful time?"  
  
I nodded, smiling. Then my smile dropped. "What do you mean a 'less stressful time' ? This time is stressful? Why?"  
  
The green boy titled his head and looked at me in confusion. "Cell."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"C-e-l-l. Cell." At my silence he insisted, "Cell! Cell; you don't know who Cell is?"  
  
I shook my head in the negative.  
  
Dende's eyes widened a bit. "Why not? Haven't you watched your human television?"  
  
A laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it, and Dende just stared at me silently. "I'm sorry," I finally said, "it just sounded so different the way you said it. Nobody's ever called my television -human- before."  
  
"I. . . guess that's humorous." He offered me a pity smile. Something must have sparked in his mind because he frowned. "You really don't know who Cell is?"  
  
Are you waiting for me to say no, because the answer hasn't changed since the first time you've asked me that question. Rei, one of my close friends, would have probably said that very sentence, I mused. But, seeing as how I couldn't force myself to be so forward like my friend Rei would have, I said, "No, I don't. Would you mind explaining who he is?" Rei would have added, Or is that too complicated for you, also?  
  
Dende nodded and was about to speak when a voice cut through our little talk:  
  
"Bulma's here!"  
  
It was definitely Gohan's voice and now I wanted to know who 'Bulma' was--- the name sounded feminine, so if these warriors knew a female, they couldn't be rough and tough -all- the time---so I stood, dusted myself of imaginary dust and asked Dende to cut this session short, and I'd talk to him later, if he didn't mind.  
  
He didn't, and side-by-side we exited his pretty room to go and meet this 'Bulma' woman.  
  
She was the very woman who introduced me to the horror who called himself 'Cell.'  
  
~*~*~  
  
More fun, eh? Anyhow, thank you to these reviewers:  
  
Phèdre nó Delauany: Whoa, your name is absolutely beautiful. What does it mean, though? Is it French? Anyhow, it's gorgeous. Hehe, I'm glad I make you happy, but the same goes for you! You make me happy with your review, and I'm glad it's not just a, "I want more!" or something. I like well- rounded, critical, maybe praising reviews. . . and yours is one of them! Thanks again! Oh, don't worry, no fighting for our sweet little Ami. That bugs me as well.  
  
Rami: I like your name! Thank you for voting! Thank you also for the compliment to my story, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter as well. Thanks again.  
  
Niamh: Lovely name, very mystical-sounding! Oh, don't worry, you were very helpful on this chapter! I am off to a good start? Phew! That's relieving! And my descriptions are good? Yay! Thank you so much for this review. Again, you don't know how grateful I am! PS: Hehe, enjoy Government ::snicker:: [j/k].  
  
STC: Haha, thank you so much! I agree, too many people give up on good fics these days, and you don't see them very often, either. Yes, I plan on continuing this for however long it needs [or however I see fit for it] to be continued. Don't worry, I won't wait about 2 years to update. . . I can't stand it when people do that. Thanks again! By the way, does your name stand for anything in particular?  
  
Kaiya: Such a pretty name you have! Yeah, Ami fics are so cute if a person writes them without making her all rough and tough and OOC. But, in general, they're cute anyway! Thank you for voting [People are listening, yay!]. Next chapter coming soon. Thanks again!  
  
The Chosen One: Now there's a name that speaks to a person! I like it. Haha, thanks about the fic not being contrived. I have an idea of what that means, but until I look it up, I'm in the dark! Any-hoo, that's a logical, nice way of describing Piccolo's need for a partner, and I've never thought about the pairing of Ami and Piccolo, but hey, that's why it's called "imagination" right? Thanks again!  
  
Sadie Joyce - Myst Lady: Thank you! Well, you're right about Gohan, but you seem a little down-hearted at the idea of Ami/Trunks. Hey, even if a majority of the crowd votes for Ami/Trunks, your vote counts too! Heck, vote for Ami/Kami, I don't care! I'm open to all sorts of votes, so forget what the crowd will vote for. Besides ::snicker:: it's -my- story, and I get to pick who Ami ends up with anyway. Just vote for who you want her too be with [Sorry about Gohan, though if enough people want him, I can try to do something about it]. . . not to mention only 1 person has voted for Trunks, and Vegeta and Piccolo are in the lead [hint, hint!]. Thanks again, and forget the crowd! Vote your little heart out!! PS: Your name is gorgeous, and I like it a lot!  
  
[I'm ecstatic that my first 7 reviews are well-written and helpful; it shows me wise authors are reading this story!]  
  
A NOTE TO EVERY REVIEWER: Although it's very sweet when people review me saying things about how they love my story and want me to update, or just tell me to add a new chapter, I really, really take into consideration the critical/praising reviews people give me summarizing my progress so far. I enjoy it when people "grade" my work, so please, don't hesitate to do it! Flames are welcome, but if you want to know which kind I absolutely do NOT tolerate, look at my Bio. Otherwise, be as ruthless, picky, and harsh as you need to to get what you're saying across! I promise, I won't snap at you if you do! More than likely, I'll thank you gratefully!  
  
Thanks & Cheers,  
  
~*azure_chan*~ ][\/][ \\//\\// //-\\ ][-][ !!! 


	3. Chapter 3

Welcome to chapter 3!  
  
Summary:  
  
Never one to go looking for love, she let life lead her wherever it would, and she followed. Then she met him, and her life turned around. However, how can one keep what is taken, and how can one love what is lost? Not Serena-centered.  
  
(Suggestions on the summary are welcomed gratefully).  
  
Title:  
  
Even so, Life Goes On  
  
Warnings:  
  
None that come to mind.  
  
Pairings: [Not in order of my favorites, don't worry =) ]  
  
Ami/Trunks: 3  
  
Ami/Vegeta: 3  
  
Ami/Piccolo: 2  
  
Ami/Tien: 1  
  
Ami/Yamcha: 1  
  
Ami/Goku: 0 [Poor Goku]  
  
Symbols: -word- = Emphasis or Italics  
  
--- = Separates present from past - - or what Ami is writing  
  
Notes:  
  
This is going to be a 2-Part chapter, so in the next chapter it's just going to continue from where it left off in this chapter. Okay? Okay!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Straight as a board without the tiniest of flickers, the candlelight flame [AN: Yes, if you hadn't noticed already, fire fascinates me, which is a distinct reason why I keep writing about it in the beginning of each chapter. Good job to those who noticed! Bravo.] stands motionless. A blotch of moonlight sits proudly on my paper, highlighting my writing as if it is a masterpiece. And it will be, one day.  
  
I smile, my head resting in my palm and slightly tilted, thinking about the next part of my story, and about the woman who will soon make it most enjoyable if it is not already.  
  
Bulma . . . one of my best friends . . .  
  
---  
  
She looked human enough---not to say that any of the men here didn't look human, no---with a brilliant, confident smile and wide demanding blue eyes. Her hands rested upon a slim waist in a pose that screamed Minako, yet for an odd reason she reminded me of Molly---a friend I got the pleasure of meeting only a few times before---with her seemed innocence and naiveté. Of course, she looked no older than I was, just wiser. Much wiser, as if she had seen everything there was to see and done everything there was to do.  
  
And then she caught me staring.  
  
"Bulma" waved to me, catching the attention of Trunks and Gohan, who had both surrounded her with smiles and laughs and chatter.  
  
"Hey, it's Ami!" Gohan came bounding over to me. I had to admit, I absolutely adored the way Gohan called my name as if I were a good friend of his that he hadn't seen in so long. The kid was on my soft side the minute he introduced himself. Well, maybe ten minutes after he introduced himself. Anyhow, I liked him.  
  
"Hi, Ami!" He gave me that beaming smile, the smile that made him seem at ease with everything in the world. I admired the kid for that. Suddenly, Goku yelled something and Gohan cocked his head, listening. "Oh, dad's calling me. Be right back!" And he was off.  
  
"Ami, huh?" Bulma strolled over, greeting me with a million-dollar smile and an outstretched hand. "Bulma," She said.  
  
I smiled, taking the hand and shaking without hesitance. "Ami." Whether from being shy or not knowing what to talk about, I lapsed into silence, just smiling a small smile and waiting for her to give me the polite brush- off of: "It was nice meeting you; see ya around." And never speak with me again.  
  
But she didn't and instead asked: "Man, is it just me, or is it kinda hot out here?"  
  
Hot? I had never once noticed the temperature, but now that she mentioned it, it was a bit sticky. "Yes-" I began.  
  
"So where're you from?" She gave me that same smile, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right.  
  
"Tokyo, Japan." Bulma raised a suspicious eyebrow, asking: "What part, and do all of the girls have blue hair, like yours?" That seemed to be a question I could have asked her, because Bulma had an aqua-green colored hair. I only shook my head. "It's natural."  
  
Bulma laughed suddenly, as if my sincerity was the funniest thing in the world. At my questioning stare, she giggled out: "Sorry, the way you said it was just---okay, there's this joke, right? And it goes like this: This blonde girl was walking in the mall---I think it was the mall, she could have been walking downtown---and sees a girl---I don't know how long she was walking, probably about five minutes or so---with brown hair . . ."  
  
I'd heard the joke too many times from Minako, and that was because every time my friend explained it to me, she'd forget days later that she told it to me already, then she'd tell it again and the cycle would continue. I'd never, though, heard the joke told by a person who put her two bits in after every line.  
  
Personally, I still didn't understand what made Minako crack up at the part where the woman with green hair wiped her nose and ran her hand through her mucus-filled mane, declaring her hair color as "natural," but I guess I hadn't been around humorous people long enough, just easily-amused ones.  
  
I offered Bulma a laugh when she finished the joke I knew inside and out, and she laughed along with me just as Trunks decided to come over and see just what was so funny.  
  
"Hey, Trunks," Bulma said, calming a bit, "I was just telling Ami this hilarious joke."  
  
Trunks sighed. "You mean the one about the girl who covered her hair in snot? Yeah," He said, "funny."  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes. "I thought so too."  
  
I don't know what possessed me to do so, but in the next instant I was staring down at Trunks' arms, watching a small infant wriggling around, crying in protest. How I hadn't noticed Trunks was holding a baby earlier, I -still- don't know. But the next words out of my mouth were: "Is he yours?"  
  
Trunks looked straight at me, the bridge of his nose turning a slight shade of embarrassed red. "No, not at all, he's not mine." Then he looked at Bulma. "He's hers." He handed the baby to her, letting the babe grasp hold of his larger finger.  
  
Bulma smiled proudly. "Yup, he's mine. All mine." At Trunks' disapproving stare she sighed, annoyed. "And Vegeta's, too."  
  
"Vegeta's his father?" That couldn't be possible! For starters, the baby looked like he was Trunks' infant clone or something, and Vegeta didn't seem like the family type of guy. And hadn't Gohan said that -Trunks- was Vegeta's son anyway? Did that mean Bulma was Trunks' mother? No way. She looked young enough to be my sister! But then again, Vegeta didn't look that old either . . . It must have meant Vegeta had more than one wife. One as Trunks' mother, and Bulma as the baby's mother.  
  
I stared in awe at the gruff-looking man still leaning against one of the pillars. He must have been really -old-. He glanced over at Bulma and the baby, caught me staring, scowled and looked off. I blinked. "Are you sure he isn't Trunks' son?"  
  
She laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I'm sure. Especially since Trunks is -my- son, as well."  
  
My head snapped toward hers to make sure she wasn't just trying to make me confused. Her eyes told a story of no lies, and my mouth dropped. "Wait a minute, back up." My head was starting to hurt with all the thinking it was doing. "If I understand this correctly, Trunks is yours and Vegeta's son, and so is this baby?" How could it be possible? Was Bulma 45 with an infant son, even though her looks stated otherwise? If so, my mother---a doctor, of course---would have loved to know her secret!  
  
Most women didn't have children after the age of 45 because it was a known fact that their children would almost always be born with Down syndrome or some other genetically altered mutation.  
  
I stopped thinking when Bulma's hysterical laughter reached my deafened ears.  
  
She was doubled over with Trunks holding his younger brother and staring down at her with a small frown on his good-looking face. "Th-the look," She wheezed, "the look on your face---priceless!" Her coughing stopped the laughter and she stood straight, giggles making her body shake and tears dropping from her eyes. "I'm sorry," She gave a last laugh. "It wasn't that funny."  
  
It really wasn't and I had half a mind to tell her so, but my manners kept me in check. "It's fine." I replied to her apology, only slightly less offended.  
  
"My mother laughs at things that aren't funny." Trunks offered. "She thinks other people's faults are humorous, even though she herself has too many to count." That actually made me laugh, but Bulma looked angry.  
  
That made me laugh harder.  
  
"Har, har, har," She barked, grabbing her baby from Trunks. "This is your cue to leave, son." She snarled the last word, glaring at him until he snickered and walked off.  
  
Her glare followed his back for a minute until she turned around to me, a pleasant smile upon her face. "Well now, let's get down to business."  
  
I nodded, having absolutely no idea of what she was talking about.  
  
"How exactly did you wind up here?" With her free hand she gestured to the palace around us.  
  
My eyes traveled to Goku, still talking with his son. "I was at my beach--- "  
  
"You own a beach?"  
  
I smiled. "No, I just call it my beach because no one else seems to know about it, and I found it when I was really young."  
  
She nodded. "Uh huh. So you were at your beach . . .?"  
  
"And it started to thunder, so naturally I figured a storm was going to hit. I---"  
  
"If you knew a storm was going to start, why'd you stay? Did you try to get to your boat? What---"  
  
"Mrs. Bulma." I regarded her calmly.  
  
First she cringed, then she started laughing. "One: Call me Bulma, nothing else. Two: I sometimes run off at the mouth, it's a trait you'll have to get used to. Sorry."  
  
"It's fine." My smile re-assured her. "Anyhow, I figured a storm was going to start, so I stayed where I was. I like to write, so whenever something beautiful in my life happens, I record every detail as sharply as I can."  
  
"O-oh! I see. Interesting. I'll have to read one of your works someday." She caught herself and shook her head. "There I go again. Continue, sorry."  
  
I laughed a little. "It's really OK. Well, the next thing I knew half of my beach was gone, and only the waves of the ocean water remained. I decided that then it would be a good idea to find my boat. In the next instant I was scooped up, and . . ." I gestured to the space around us. "I was here."  
  
Bulma placed her baby on her opposite hip, nodding. "So you were rescued. Yeah, I'm glad Goku found you. Cell was out there destroying the Islands [AN: I forgot if "Island" was supposed to be capitalized or not. Is it?] and stuff."  
  
Cell. That sparked something in my mind and I remembered I -still- didn't know who Cell was. "Thank you. By the way, who exactly is Cell?"  
  
She stared at me long and hard for a moment. "Umm . . . sweetie, did you hit your head?" When it was obvious I had done nothing of the like, Bulma gasped loudly. "Oh my gosh!" Her yell attracted much attention.  
  
Much -un-needed- attention.  
  
Vegeta was standing by Bulma in an instant, glaring straight at me. "What is it, woman?" He growled, his eyes radiating the hatred he had for me.  
  
I backed up, shaking on the inside, but just blinking on the outside. I may have looked calm, but I was terrified. So I backed up more . . .  
  
. . . right into Piccolo.  
  
My head tilted back and I was staring right up into curious yet annoyed black eyes. And I blinked.  
  
Piccolo took me by the shoulders and pushed me forward a little, just to make sure there was enough space between him and I.  
  
Then a hand fitted into my own and I knew Gohan had heard Bulma's cry as well. I stood next to the little guy. And his dad. His muscle-y dad. Heh.  
  
This is a first, I mused. Being surrounded by guys. If only Minako knew . . . she'd be so jealous! My happy thoughts were cut short when Bulma pointed right at me, mouth open.  
  
"She doesn't know who Cell is!"  
  
The next thing that happened was---in my mind---completely unexpected. I was sure everyone would stare at me as if I was a lab specimen because of my lack of knowledge of Cell, but that didn't happen. There were a whole bunch of annoyed sighs and the guys shook their heads at Bulma, then--- sadly---left, and Vegeta yelled---I really didn't think he had to raise his voice---:  
  
"Then why don't you TELL her!" He started to stalk away, back to his post. "Idiot woman screaming for idiot things. I should have eliminated you back on Namek instead of letting you produce my offspring!"  
  
Bulma glared at his back and thrust her baby in my arms. When she was sure I had him, she bent down, yanked off her shoe and hurled it at Vegeta's back, hitting him square in the middle.  
  
"Ha-HA!" She bellowed. "That's why you just got hit with a shoe, you lousy excuse for a husband!"  
  
Vegeta didn't even flinch, just retrieved the shoe . . .  
  
. . . and tossed it over the side of the floating palace. And kept walking.  
  
I, sad to say, was laughing like an idiot, and Bulma focused her heated glare on me for a second, before turning it back to Vegeta's dorsal side, howling:  
  
"You'd better get that for me or no food for . . . a week!"  
  
I had no clue as to why that would make a difference when Vegeta could just go out shopping, but it slowed Vegeta's pace a little, and I thought that maybe it had hit home.  
  
Until Dende came walking out of his room with about forty plates of food and beverages. He smiled, oblivious to Bulma's murderous gaze, and said, "After you eat, Vegeta and Trunks, you can go into the Time Chamber. You must eat before you go into it to conserve your strength."  
  
Goku skipped---not literally---right over to the food and plopped himself down beside Vegeta, who promptly scowled and moved away. Gohan placed himself next to his dad and Piccolo ignored them all.  
  
"Lousy, ignorant, greedy, filthy, unloving, irresponsible . . ." Bulma's ranting brought my attention back to her.  
  
She noticed me staring, and her foul mood seemed to . . . vanish. "Well," She said sweetly, "now you know how much of a jerk my loathe-full, mangy, disgusting, hateful and arrogant husband is." Okay, so maybe it hadn't.  
  
I nodded slowly, the babe in my arms beginning to doze. "So, who -is- Cell? So far, all I know is that I know nothing about him, and that seems to be a bad thing."  
  
Bulma smiled---it seemed a little forced---and reached out for her baby, which I gently gave to her. She cooed at him for a moment, then slowly sat down on the ground, me following suit.  
  
"Cell," She began, "is a bad guy."  
  
No, really? It was my first thought and it desperately pleaded to jump out of my mouth. I bit my tongue. "Oh."  
  
"Yes, he's a bad one."  
  
"What makes him so . . . bad?"  
  
Bulma's face turned grim. "He used to suck the life out of people to get his power. Sucked the life right out of them like sucking lemonade through a straw." She looked thoroughly disgusted.  
  
Power? The word was familiar, but it confused me. How could anyone other than the Sailor Scouts and our enemies have any sort of power? I figured that Cell was any enemy from the way everyone spoke so lowly of him, but how come the Sailor Scouts had never heard of Cell before, then? And how come we never knew about this floating palace, or about this Time Chamber? Or people who looked like Piccolo and weren't a threat to humans? Or---  
  
"Ami, are you still with me?"  
  
I was staring down at my hands as if looking for something that I couldn't find, but I wasn't thinking anymore, I was stumped. "No," my head slowly shook from side to side. "You lost me a while ago. I don't even know what you've been talking about, or if you've even been talking."  
  
After a brief silence, Bulma cleared her throat. "Ah . . . well, yes, I suppose you would be pretty confused, so would you like me to start again?"  
  
"No. But could you answer me a few questions?" She nodded and I continued. "Have you ever heard of the Sailor Scouts?"  
  
I knew what the answer would be before she opened her mouth, or before she widened her eyes to stare at me with bewilderment written all over her face.  
  
"The Sailor what?"  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sorry if this story is going so slow, but Ami has to figure out where she is and all that before it can actually progress into the romance. I promise, after the next chapter the story shall be boring no more, and the romance can begin as well as the battle with Cell.  
  
That said, I'll get on to the thank you-ing [what a word!]:  
  
Hidden Angel: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks again!  
  
Buu: I agree with you about Ami's role in the battle against Cell, and that's what I was planning, but with a little twist. Don't worry, she's not going to fight or anything, but you'll see when it comes to that. Thanks for the review!  
  
NachtMusik: Hello again! I have to say; I like this name better than STC--- Sonic the Comic? Thanks; I was hoping I made her in character even though I haven't seen Sailormoon in too long. Heh. Thanks again!  
  
Phèdre nó Delaunay: Haha, yeah, I like learning about the origins of names and stuff like that. It's interesting. Needless to say, I won't have to wonder about what your name means anymore. Thank you for that; I still think it's a gorgeous name. Yeah, I get a bit confused about the who and whom thing, I just hope it doesn't throw my story off -too- much. Thank you for the compliment about my writing style. I always thought I had this dry, uneasy to read humor, but I guess not. Thanks again, and I hope this chapter satisfied you as well!  
  
Minimerc: What a name. Interesting---but, um, what is it? Haha, it's neat nevertheless. Yeah, this is the Cell Games 10-day wait thing, and I'm hoping I'm not dragging it out too much. I think that part was my favorite part so far, but I haven't finished the story so I guess I don't know. Heh. Anyway, thank you again for your comments! All your questions about why Ami is there will be answered in time, hehe. Thank you again!  
  
Mimercury: Thank you for the review! I'm keeping up the work---good, however, is up to you.  
  
Sadie Joyce - Myst Lady: Heh heh, oops. I didn't mean to hint toward so many guys, but that gives me an idea of how to keep everyone guessing. Especially since when the final votes come, and the man/guy who wins the voting is picked, I'm not showing who it is. Hehe. Yes, your name is really interesting. Thank you for your comments!  
  
Well, I'm going to stop the voting around chapters 5 or 6, but only because I think this story may be just a bit longer than I anticipated. Not too long, though.  
  
Anyhow, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and sorry for not updating in a little while!  
  
A NOTE TO EVERY REVIEWER: Although it's very sweet when people review me saying things about how they love my story and want me to update, or just tell me to add a new chapter, I really, really take into consideration the critical/praising reviews people give me summarizing my progress so far. I enjoy it when people "grade" my work, so please, don't hesitate to do it! Flames are welcome, but if you want to know which kind I absolutely do NOT tolerate, look at my Bio. Otherwise, be as ruthless, picky, and harsh as you need to to get what you're saying across! I promise, I won't snap at you if you do! More than likely, I'll thank you gratefully!  
  
Thanks & Cheers,  
  
~*azure_chan*~ ][\/][ \\//\\// //-\\ ][-][ !!! 


	4. Chapter 3 Part 2

Welcome to chapter 3 Part-2!  
  
Summary:  
  
Never one to go looking for love, she let life lead her wherever it would, and she followed. Then she met him, and her life turned around. However, how can one keep what is taken, and how can one love what is lost? Not Serena-centered.  
  
(Suggestions on the summary are welcomed gratefully).  
  
Title:  
  
Even so, Life Goes On  
  
Warnings:  
  
None that come to mind.  
  
Pairings: [Not in order of my favorites, don't worry =) ]  
  
Ami/Trunks: 3  
  
Ami/Vegeta: 3  
  
Ami/Piccolo: 2  
  
Ami/Tien: 1  
  
Ami/Yamcha: 1  
  
Ami/Goku: 0 [Poor Goku]  
  
Symbols: -word- = Emphasis or Italics  
  
--- = Separates present from past - - or what Ami is writing  
  
Chapter 3 Part-2  
  
"The Sailor what?"  
  
Bulma raised a single eyebrow, rocking her baby back and forth. "Ami, what are you talking about?"  
  
I didn't know anymore. All I knew was that I was stuck in a place that didn't know about the Sailor Scouts. Not everyone in the world knew about the Sailor Scouts, right? Just everyone in Tokyo, Japan. A frown took to my face as soon as I remembered that I -was- still in Tokyo, Japan---I figured I must have been when Bulma asked me what part I was from and if all the girls had blue hair, like mine---just not the -right- Tokyo, Japan.  
  
"Ami?"  
  
So if I'm understanding this straight, I thought, then I'm in another Tokyo, Japan other than my own. But how can that be? There aren't two Tokyo, Japans in the world, just one! And I'm there, aren't I?  
  
"Ami . . ."  
  
Obviously not because Bulma has absolutely no clue as to who the Sailor Scouts are, and the Sailor Scouts have never heard of Cell or this palace before, so that must mean . . . my thoughts stopped as understanding dawned on me like a thick rain cloud. "I'm in an alternate universe."  
  
"Ami---" Bulma stopped her rocking. "Huh?"  
  
"I'm in an alternate universe!" I stared at her for a moment, then my face broke out into a smile and I slowly stood up, observing the palace around me as if I had just -seen- it, seen it since I'd been there. "Oh, this is good!" I exclaimed, excited. Think about what I could learn here, I thought, joy shining on my face. About the Science, about the use of medicines, about the people, the places, the bad guy Cell . . . scratch that . . . about the transportation, about this universe! And when I get home, I can---"Home!" My face fell an instant later as I realized I didn't even know how I'd -gotten- to this universe, so there was absolutely no way I would get -home- any time soon. "Oh," I sank to my knees slowly, "this is bad. This is really bad."  
  
Poor Bulma was utterly confused by now and she scooted away from me a bit, something akin to worry in her eyes. "Ami dear," She asked nervously, "are you schizophrenic?"  
  
I may have been depressed about the thought of not getting home for a while, but that didn't mean I was -completely- gone. So, I glared at Bulma. Yes, I, Ami Marie [AN: I don't know her real middle name, but I like the name Marie and I thought it sounded good with the name Amy/Ami =) ] Mizuno glared at someone. In the back of my mind two little voices were laughing--- they sounded uncannily like Minako and Usagi---saying: If only your friends could see you now! Ami grew a backbone!  
  
Bulma's cheeks colored as she realized what she had said, and she tried to make up for it by smiling. "I didn't mean a -complete- schizo, I meant a part-time . . . one." She 'eh heh-ed' nervously.  
  
I let the glare drop and only frowned, wondering when I had gone past calm, silent, poised and graceful to Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hide. "It's OK, Bulma." I sighed, muttering a few other sentences in my mind along the lines of, "It's not -your- fault I'm stuck in some stupid universe and can't get back to my stupid home with my stupid friends all because of my stupid beach that I so stupidly visit every once in a stupid while." I would have gone on, but Bulma's voice broke my train of highly intense thought.  
  
"What did you mean when you said you're from an alternate universe?" She looked nervous and excited at the same time, her eyes wide and curious.  
  
Pulling my knees to my chest, I let out another weary sigh, shrugging. "I said I was -in- an alternate universe, but I guess to you I'm -from- an alternate universe, hmm?" I had to find a way to get home, but how?  
  
"Oh, this is great!" Bulma smiled right in my face, ignoring the pointedly angry look she was currently receiving from no one other than myself. "I mean, think about what we could learn from each other!" She pointed to me, her finger a breath away from my nose. "You -have- to come to my house."  
  
Her house? I frowned even deeper. Who said anything about going to Bulma's house? And better yet, I thought rudely, who wants to? When I realized what I had just thought up, I immediately felt a sense of guilt. Here I was in another universe, with few friends, thinking bad things about one of the people who actually try to -become- another friend. This must be the Galaxia in me, I mused.  
  
"You coming?" Her voice sounded far away. I looked up and found her halfway across the spot she'd just been sitting in, patting a large machine of some sort.  
  
Curiosity killed the cat a voice taunted, as I strolled over to see what it was Bulma had suddenly created. This isn't curiosity, I retorted, this is for Science. I had to giggle a bit at the prospect of me arguing with myself.  
  
It looked like a mini airplane, seating only two people---the pilot and the passenger, although the pilot seat was a lot bigger than the passenger seat. The color was a dusty orange, coating the wings and body and the tail, but the tip of the tail was colored off-white. There didn't seem to be any wheels of any kind on this airplane-looking machine and no doors either. It was an open-cock pit kind of machine, and the inside looked like my couch---checkered cloth patterning.  
  
"What is it?" I wondered aloud, tracing my fingertips along the smooth exterior of the machine, marveling at how complicated and futuristic it looked.  
  
Bulma strapped her sleeping baby boy into a car seat she had miraculously pulled out of nowhere, then turned to me, leaning against the machine looking as comfortable as she could be. "It's a hover plane."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "A hover -plane-." Is there a difference? I wondered. I mean, I'd never heard of a plane that didn't hover in the first place, but I wasn't in my universe, either.  
  
"Yep," She confirmed, climbing into it. "Come on."  
  
"Okay . . . if you say so." I shook my head and grasped the passenger's side where the door would be, hoisting myself up and over. I was strapping myself in when I heard a familiar voice call my name.  
  
"Where're you going?" Gohan leaned in when he reached the plane, staring inside the car in boyish fascination.  
  
"I'm going to Bulma's house. Hopefully, we can find a way to get me home." At my words she glanced at me when turning around, giving me a cheery smile.  
  
"You coming or going?" She addressed Gohan with a smile as well.  
  
Gohan backed away from the hover plane, smiling politely in return. "No thanks, Bulma. But," He looked at me quickly. "Why are you going home so soon? You just got here. Aren't you gonna stay?"  
  
If only you were older, I thought wistfully. "I'm not exactly from this universe, Gohan. I have to find a way back home before I can book a vacation."  
  
"Oh," He sighed a little loudly. "Okay then. But come back soon, 'cause my mom'll probably wanna meet you." Gohan looked thoughtful a moment later. "If you want, though. I mean, if you need a place to stay or anything." His face was going through some interesting thinking expressions, and I couldn't help but giggle a little. "I mean, my mom can cook better than Bulma, so if you ever start to starve . . ."  
  
Bulma glared at him, snarling slightly. "That's enough, little man," She growled, "I think we'll be off, now." With that, the aqua-haired woman started the engine of the hover plane and we slowly started to rise.  
  
"Bye Gohan!" I waved to the boy as soon as we were considerably high in the air, and he waved back before running off to his father. I watched him for a moment before we sped off into the sky, my hair whipping around me in thousands of directions. Little cutie, I thought, using one of my friend's most two favorite words in her limited vocabulary.  
  
"Gohan's adorable, huh?" Bulma regarded me from the driver's seat, expertly driving the hover plane with ease. "You know, his dad's just like him!"  
  
"I figured as much!" I had to yell because of how loud the air going past us was, and my eyes had started to water a bit. "Can we go a little slower, Bulma?"  
  
She didn't slow down. "What?" She yelled.  
  
"I said, can we go slo-wer!"  
  
"Are you sure?" She hollered.  
  
I nodded and my hair smacked me; it stung. "Yes, I'm sure!"  
  
From the front I could see her shrug. "Okay! If you're sure!"  
  
And she sped up, sending me sinking back into my seat and making my eyes water more than ever, and my hair got plastered to the back of my head. It was very uncomfortable.  
  
"Bul-MA!" I shrieked, loud enough to wake the dead. "What are you DO-ing?!"  
  
Bulma didn't answer, just sped the plane up even more.  
  
My stomach threatened to coat me in a smelly substance if we didn't slow down, but I tried not to think of that. No, all I thought about was the slow and painful way in which Bulma would die.  
  
She flipped the plane over, laughing.  
  
. . . If -I- didn't die first!  
  
"You know what?" She bellowed, still laughing. "I think you're the first person to ever want to go THIS fast! I would've thought you'd want to go SLOWER or something!"  
  
Oh yes, I thought miserably, Bulma would need to sleep with her eyes open from now until the time I got back home. I had obviously ditched the idea of thinking good things about the people here, even if they -were- trying to become my friend.  
  
"Whoo! Isn't this GREAT?"  
  
Especially THIS specific person.  
  
When we finally started to descend I was dry heaving [That's possible, right?], and when we touched the ground I had jumped out and was almost kissing the stable earth.  
  
"I never," I moaned, panting, "want to ride on one of those -things- again." Leaning against the horrid machine, my stomach flipped once more before trying to calm down.  
  
Bulma laughed, un-strapping her baby and setting him on her hip. "Come on inside. Daddy will want to meet you."  
  
Daddy? I wondered wearily, pushing myself off of the plane and walking slowly on wobbly legs.  
  
And then I looked up and saw Bulma's "house."  
  
It wasn't a house by far, more like a double mansion. From what I could see in the front, there were two rounded---two -huge- rounded---buildings, all white with a wide yellow stripe right around the middle, and huge blue letters reading Capsule Corp. I had no idea what a capsule was, but nevertheless I followed Bulma into this gigantic monstrosity she called her "house."  
  
And let me tell you, I got lost more than once in that jungle, too.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sorry! This was really short, I know! But, I had to get this out of the way before I could do the next chapter! And again, I know this doesn't even count as a chapter! It just cut off, I KNOW! I apologize, and the next chapter will be out . . . later, heh. You won't have to wait too long, but sophomore year (for me) is vastly approaching and I haven't finished all I need to do for the summer h/w that my last-year/this-year teachers oh-so- kindly bestowed upon me.  
  
Yes, yes, I am making excuses, but I really am sorry! Look on the bright side; I got this chapter out quicker than usual, right? Right?  
  
Oh, and sorry for making Ami OOC in this chapter. I promise, it shall never happen again!  
  
Thank you:  
  
Niamh:lost without a compass: Hi again! Thank you and I won't speak a word about the candlelight. As for the pairing/voting thing, you're absolutely right. I guess I let people vote because I'm worried that the pairing I choose won't be welcomed by readers, and they'll just stop reading all together. Dumb reason, I know, but it has happened.  
  
Yeah, you're right, but the guy/dating thing is pretty important to the story. At least, in -this- story it is. Please don't stop reading! I promise this isn't going to go as I think you think it's going to go. You're thinking Ami is going to fall in love with a guy, he'll fall in love with her, they'll do the dirty and wham, she's got a man, but she has to go back to Tokyo and live her life, forgetting all about Mr. Perfect. Am I right? If not, you're closer to the actual plot of the romance, which leads me to MY venting.  
  
Niamh, from this moment on you are no longer aloud to think when it comes to my story. Why? Because you are currently POINTING OUT every thing I am trying to HIDE in my story! Now I'm whining and I hate whining! No, I'm joking. But really, if you'd like to figure out the real plot of this story (that includes the romance and candlelight), go back and read the first part of the first paragraph very closely, along with the summary. Besides, who said Ami was going to date the guy? ~_^.  
  
There're a lot of secret things in this story, but you're very close to figuring out what I'm doing. TOO close, mind you. Then again, I'm happy about your brilliance! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Kaiya: Hey again! Eh heh, well, the next chapter is out, although you might be a wee bit upset at how short it is . . . sorry! Yeah, you can still vote on Vegeta. In fact, I encourage you to. Then again, that doesn't mean he could be the guy for Ami . . . or does it? I'm leading you on, and I'm loving it! Haha thanks for the review!  
  
Sailor g: Thank you! Wow, I got a 10 out of 10! Yay! Thank you again!  
  
Next chapter will be out ASAP, but don't hesitate to leave a review even at the shortness of this chapter . . . hehe, thanks!  
  
--azure_chan 


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